Betterbetterlife

CYBERBULLIES

“That’s them, isn’t it?” breathed Bess at the same time George murmured, “Oh, wow.” The two strange avatars advanced on VirtualNancy. I stiffened in my seat.

“It’s the craziest thing,” I told Bess and George. “I want to run away from them! But I guess that wouldn’t solve anything.”

George nodded, unable to tear her eyes away from the screen. The two figures hovered ominously, bobbing up and down and making odd gestures the way idle avatars do.

I directed VirtualNancy to wave and say “Hello.” Immediately, the avatar on the left — the one that resembled Jack Crilley — responded.

KINGCRILLEY: VIRTUALNANCY. IT’S NICE TO BE SPEAKING WITH YOU FINALLY, INSTEAD OF YOUR USELESS FRIENDS AND BOYFRIEND.

I gasped. I felt like ice was running through my veins. “Does that mean…”

George’s jaw had dropped. “They’re UrNewReality,” she whispered. “This whole time, it’s been them!”

Bess shook her head. “But… but…”

“It makes perfect sense,” George continued, her eyes lighting up with the realization. “I’ve said all along that UrNewReality had to be a serious hacker — how else would he or she be able to manipulate the game so well, and break so many of the rules? How would they be able to keep that creepy old-man avatar alive in that dingy apartment?”

I nodded. “It would be really easy if you had programmed the game in the first place.”

Bess still looked stunned. “Wow. Wow. But does that mean…”

The Robert Sung avatar suddenly “spoke” to VirtualNancy.

SONGSUNGBLUE: LET’S NOT BEAT AROUND THE BUSH. IN CASE YOU HAVEN’T FIGURED IT OUT ALREADY, WE WANT YOU TO STOP HARASSING US AND DEFAMING OUR GAME. WE HAVE YOUR BOYFRIEND.

I stopped reading after only a couple lines. “Oh my gosh. They have Ned!”

Bess nodded grimly. “And that’s not all, Nance.”

George shook her head. “It’s definitely not all. Keep reading, Nance — they want to do battle with us in the game. ”

I scanned the rest of the message.

WE’LL MAKE A DEAL WITH YOU: IF YOU CAN FIND US AND STOP US IN THE GAME, WE’LL SET NED FREE, AND ONLY YOU WILL HAVE TO PAY THE PRICE FOR YOUR MEDDLING.

“But — but — that’s not fair!”

“It sure as heck isn’t,” George agreed. “They designed the game.”

I started typing as quickly as I could.

VIRTUALNANCY: OF COURSE I’M WILLING TO WORK WITH YOU TO GET NED BACK — BUT STOP YOU IN THE GAME?! YOU PROGRAMMED THE GAME, ISN’T THAT A LITTLE UNFAIR?

Both avatars dissolved into virtual laughter.

KINGCRILLEY: IT’S CUTE HOW YOU THINK YOU HAVE A CHOICE, NANCY. I SUPPOSE I SHOULDN’T BE SURPRISED THAT SUCH A SELF-RIGHTEOUS LITTLE TEENYBOPPER WOULD HAVE TROUBLE FOLLOWING DIRECTIONS. WE TRIED TO TELL YOU VERY CLEARLY TO MIND YOUR OWN BUSINESS AND GIVE UP THE CASE, BUT DID YOU? NOOOO… AND NOW POOR LITTLE NED WILL HAVE TO SUFFER.

I swallowed. Shaking now, I typed:

VIRTUALNANCY: DON’T HURT HIM.

The avatars laughed again.

SONGSUNGBLUE: IF YOU PLAY YOUR CARDS RIGHT, WE

WON’T HAVE TO. BUT LET’S MAKE A FEW THINGS CLEAR. YOU MAY HAVE REALIZED THERE ARE CERTAIN… THINGS TO BE DESIRED IN BETTERLIFE’S SECURITY FEATURES.

“That’s the understatement of the century,” George muttered.

Bess stood up. “Keep him talking, Nancy,” she instructed me. “I don’t seem to get any service in here on my phone. I’m going to look for a landline, an intercom, anything — there has to be some way to get in touch with the police and tell them we’re here.”

“That’s great,” I agreed, “but I wish we knew where Ned is.”

George stood as well. “I’ll help,” she said. “Try to keep them talking for as long as possible. Maybe that will give us some clues. Once you start the game and lose, I guess…”

“We’re out of luck,” I finished for her.

I began typing again.

VIRTUALNANCY: THE SECURITY PROBLEMS I FOUND WERE A SERIOUS ISSUE. THEY WERE HELPING A YOUNG GIRL BE BULLIED! AND THEN PEOPLE WERE USING THE GAME TO BULLY ME!

Onscreen, Crilley’s avatar smirked.

KINGCRILLEY: WE WERE USING THE GAME TO BULLY YOU, SWEETHEART.

I shivered, feeling a sudden chill.

VIRTUALNANCY: AND SHANNON? IBRAHIM? NED? IT WAS YOU TWO WHO INVADED THEIR PERSONAL COMPUTERS AND E-MAILS, TRYING TO BLACKMAIL THEM?

Crilley’s avatar shrugged.

KINGCRILLEY: SINCE YOU’RE GOING TO DECIDE TO KEEP QUIET SOON, WHETHER YOU’RE SUCCESSFUL IN FREEING YOUR BOYFRIEND OR NOT, I’LL LET YOU IN ON SOMETHING.

The avatar paused and leaned closer to VirtualNancy, his pale, freckled, oddly young face taking up most of the screen.

KINGCRILLEY: WE CAN GET INTO ALL THE COMPUTERS AND E-MAILS. THE BETTERLIFE PROGRAM OVERRIDES YOUR COMPUTER’S PALTRY SECURITY FEATURES. WE KNOW ALL ABOUT YOUR ONLINE PURCHASES, NANCE, AND WE READ ALL THE PAPERS YOU WROTE FOR MRS. CUNNINGHAM’S ENGLISH CLASS.

I shivered again. I’d known someone had access to my personal files, but still — the thought of anyone going through my writings and Internet history made me queasy.

Sung’s avatar was laughing now. At first, I could only hear the tinny electronic sound, but then the screen expanded to show Sung’s round, laughing face behind Crilley’s. The two-dimensional character was laughing so hard he was turning red.

SONGSUNGBLUE: THAT’S WHY IT’S RIDICULOUS FOR YOU TO THINK YOU CAN BEAT US, NANCY. WE’RE PROGRAMMING GENIUSES. WE HAVE ACCESS TO THE PRIVATE FILES OF MILLIONS OF AMERICANS — NOT THAT WE USE IT ALL.

I gulped.

VIRTUALNANCY: SO YOU DIDN’T CREATE YOUR PROGRAM FOR MONEY, YOU CREATED IT TO SNOOP?

Crilley nodded.

KINGCRILLEY: WE CREATED IT FOR BOTH, ACTUALLY.

MAINLY BETTERLIFE IS JUST WHAT WE SAY IT IS: A VIRTUAL REALITY COMMUNITY FOR PEOPLE TO SOCIALIZE AND LIVE OUT THEIR FANTASIES. BUT IT’S ALSO A WAY FOR US TO GET EVEN WITH PEOPLE WHO’VE WRONGED US. THAT CHEERLEADER WHO POSTED MY LOVE NOTE ON THE CLASS BULLETIN BOARD IN EIGHTH GRADE? SHE WAS SURPRISED TO GET A NOTE FROM ME WITH AN E-MAIL TO HER SECRET BOYFRIEND ATTACHED — ESPECIALLY WHEN I THREATENED TO FORWARD IT TO HER HUSBAND.

I couldn’t believe it. How long had this been going on? How many people had Sung and Crilley contacted, threatening to expose their most personal secrets?

VIRTUALNANCY: WHAT DID YOU WANT HER TO DO? KINGCRILLEY: HUMILIATING THINGS, MOSTLY. I HAD HER COME WASH MY CAR. I HAD HER WRITE A LETTER TO THE TOWN PAPER ABOUT HOW BRILLIANT A PROGRAM BETTERLIFE WAS, AND HOW THE WHOLE TOWN SHOULD SIGN UP, AND HOW DARNED ATTRACTIVE THE PROGRAMMERS ARE.

Yuck. Were these programmers still in junior high?

VIRTUALNANCY: DID SHE DO IT?

KINGCRILLEY: SHE DID. MOST OF THEM DO. WE HAVE HUNDREDS OF “SLAVES” OUT THERE — THAT’S WHAT WE CALL THEM — PEOPLE WILLING TO DO ANYTHING FOR URNEWREALITY, JUST TO PREVENT HIM FROM TELLING THEIR SECRETS.

This was incredible. A sudden thought occurred to me.

VIRTUALNANCY: THE GIRL WHO FELL IN THE LIBRARY?

Sung’s avatar laughed again.

SONGSUNGBLUE: HAS A THING FOR BAD BOYS. RIGHT NOW SHE’S SEEING A BOY HER PARENTS ASKED HER TO BREAK UP WITH AFTER HE WAS ARRESTED FOR SHOPLIFTING. BUT GUESS WHO HAS PHOTOS OF THE TWO OF THEM CANOODLING AT THE MOVIES JUST LAST WEEKEND? IT’S AMAZING WHAT COMPUTERS CAN TELL YOU….

I was stunned. I couldn’t believe this. How many people in River Heights were counted among Sung and Crilley’s “slaves”? It seemed you had to upset them in some way for them to go after you — as I had, by questioning their security, or as countless others probably had during the duo’s childhoods. But still — what an incredible violation of their users’ privacy! And all for what? So they could feel more powerful?

“Are you having any luck?” I called to Bess and George.

“Nothing,” Bess replied with a sigh.

George agreed, “I got that one text message, but now I can’t seem to get any service at all. And there’s no landline in here. There is a computer on the wall….”

I stared at the huge images of Sung and Crilley onscreen, still laughing and patting each other on the back. What were these clowns planning to do to Ned? “Can you try e-mailing the police?” I asked.

George sighed. I heard her walking across the room, to what I assumed was the computer. “I can try,” she replied glumly. “But we’ve seen how familiar they are with e-mail and the Internet this week. I can tell them we’re trapped in the Gaming Garage. But who knows where Sung and Crilley are, and where they’ve taken Ned?”

As she began clicking and typing, Sung and Crilley seemed to remember their original plan.

KINGCRILLEY: ENOUGH BEATING AROUND THE BUSH. WE’RE PLAYING FOR YOUR BOYFRIEND’S FREEDOM HERE. EITHER WAY, YOU’RE GOING TO SHUT UP ABOUT OUR SECURITY ISSUES, OR I GUARANTEE YOU’LL REGRET IT. HOW MUCH YOU REGRET IT DEPENDS ON HOW YOU DO IN THIS GAME. IT COULD COST YOU A LITTLE TIME AND YOUR DIGNITY, OR IT COULD COST YOU YOUR BOYFRIEND…. SONGSUNGBLUE: SO CATCH US, AND STOP US SOMEHOW, OR YOU WON’T SEE NED AGAIN.

I swallowed. I tried to imagine Ned with these two, tied up, hungry, probably scared out of his wits — but I couldn’t complete the scenario in my mind, it made me too upset. I had to focus on beating these guys. That was, after all, the only chance I had of getting Ned out of there.

In the game, Sung and Crilley suddenly darted away from Nancy and began running down the street that led downtown. They were plowing ahead, knocking over shrubs, dogs, people — they even knocked over a virtual baby carriage in their hurry to get out of VirtualNancy’s apartment complex. With a sigh, I directed VirtualNancy to follow them — just as quickly, and just as rudely. I comforted myself with the knowledge that these were only virtual shrubs, dogs and people — and that their owners would surely be okay with my behavior if they knew my boyfriend’s freedom was at stake.

“I e-mailed the RHPD,” George announced, suddenly right behind my chair. “Now let’s see if we can figure out where they are….”

“If that’s even possible,” Bess added, stepping up to flank my other side. “Poor Ned. I hope he’s all right!”

“I can’t think about it,” I replied, watching the screen as VirtualNancy trailed Sung and Crilley to the entrance of the Virtual River Heights Mall. “Oh, no,” I breathed as they entered, plowing down countless innocent shoppers as they ran. “This is going to get ugly.”

“They’re destroying their creation,” Bess murmured, watching the action. “It’s crazy. Sung and Crilley created this whole virtual world. Why would they want to hurt it?”

VirtualNancy chased SongSungBlue and KingCrilley down a long hallway, through a fountain (the onlookers were not amused), across the food court, and finally into the huge virtual bookstore she worked in. Sung and Crilley went to work, knocking over displays and shelving units. Books toppled everywhere, and many of the virtual customers were hurt. I couldn’t let VirtualNancy stop, though; I had to keep her right on their trail, if I was to have even a chance of saving Ned.

AustensDaughter, the virtual shop’s owner, screamed after VirtualNancy as she trailed SongSungBlue and KingCrilley through the children’s section, doing her best to avoid customers and fallen books.

AUSTENSDAUGHTER: NANCY! WHAT ON EARTH! HAVE YOU LOST YOUR MIND???

“Sorry,” I whispered under my breath in real life. I had no time to even type the word into the keyboard. In fact, in the moment I’d taken to turn my attention to AustensDaughter — VirtualNancy had lost Sung and Crilley.

“What the —?” I sputtered in real life, searching the screen in front of me for any hint of an exit. I saw none. The children’s section was encircled by low shelves, and VirtualNancy was blocking access to the entrance. The shelves were too high to jump over, and the section backed up onto a book-covered wall that looked completely solid to me. “Did you see where they went?” I asked Bess and George.

“No,” Bess replied. “It’s eerie! It’s like they just disappeared into thin air.”

George scowled. “Is it eerie, or is it cheating?” she asked. “Remember, they designed the game. It’s entirely possible that they can give themselves powers VirtualNancy doesn’t have.”

I shook my head. “This is crazy. I guess I have to find an exit.”

As VirtualNancy started searching the area, a loud, crashing sound filled the room — like cymbals. It was coming from the game.

“What was that?” Bess asked, standing up straight and staring at the screen.

George followed her gaze, searching the screen. “Oh, my gosh,” she muttered, pointing to VirtualNancy’s stats at the bottom of the screen. “Look! VirtualNancy’s strength just went down by a hundred points! And her hunger level skyrocketed!”

Just then, VirtualNancy’s stomach rumbled in the game — loud enough for everyone in the bookstore to hear it.

“ That’s going to get annoying,” Bess predicted.

“We don’t have time to eat anything,” I explained, directing VirtualNancy out of the bookstore and through an emergency exit out in the mall. “We have to catch them!”

“All right, that’s it,” George announced, and got up and walked over to the computer on the wall again.

“What are you doing?” I asked. VirtualNancy was stumbling from hunger, but I still managed to direct her through the parking lot. Finally, I spotted the virtual Sung and Crilley running down a street that led to Virtual River Heights downtown. I made VirtualNancy run after them, even though she was clearly feeling weak.

George was already typing away into an Internet browser. “I’m looking up cheat codes,” she replied.

“Cheat codes?” Bess asked. “Are you telling me this whole time, all we’ve needed to cheat is a code?”

George shrugged. “It’s not exactly considered noble in the world of gaming to use cheat codes,” she explained, “but it’s sometimes necessary.” She scowled at the computer. “Especially when we have to fight fire with fire.”

“George,” I said, as VirtualNancy panted after Sung and Crilley, “have you ever used cheat codes in this game before?”

George smiled and shook her head. “ Really, Nance? Do you think VirtualNancy could afford that tricked-out computer I got her on her salary?”

Bess frowned. “Why didn’t you get her some new clothes?”

George held up her hand. “Let’s focus, here,” she insisted. “Nancy, I want you to enter on the keyboard R-E-W-N-P-two hundred.”

With no idea what I was actually doing, I followed George’s directions. A happy sound, like a bell chiming, sounded instantly.

“Look!” Bess cried, pointing happily. “Your hunger level’s back to normal!”

“Now type K-S-W-I-O five hundred,” George instructed me. I did what she said.

The chime sounded again, and suddenly VirtualNancy’s strength shot up by five hundred points. She was stronger than she’d ever been!

“George,” I said as VirtualNancy chased Sung and Crilley’s avatars down Main Street, “do you have a code in there for catching two very badly behaved computer programmers?”

George smirked. “Negative,” she responded. “But keep doing what you’re doing. I’ll try to help where I can.”

As George and I joked, KingCrilley and SongSungBlue approached a huge, wild-looking, magenta mansion that had been built just a few blocks from (virtual) downtown. The building looked nothing like any existing building in River Heights, but in BetterLife, the longer you played the game, the more power and money you accumulated. And with enough power and money, you could build the house of your dreams — even if that house looked too crazy to make it in the real world.

In fact, I realized as I directed VirtualNancy to follow them, I — or she, VirtualNancy — had been to this mansion before. A week or so ago, I’d been playing BetterLife and attended a party at this very mansion with some shady characters who eventually turned out to be the work of Shannon’s aunt — and Ibrahim, who was just trying to get closer to me. I’m sad to say that for VirtualNancy, this party ended when she was tossed off the roof by the character Shannon’s aunt had cre ated. Bess, George, and I had been crushed. With hard work and determination, Bess and George had gotten VirtualNancy running again — but I was sure it hadn’t been easy.

Bess frowned, apparently realizing the same thing I was. “Isn’t this…?”

“The site of VirtualNancy’s demise?” I asked. “Yeah, it is.”

“Do you think they know that?” George called from the computer. “Do you think they’re trying to intimidate you?”

“If they are, it’s not working,” I replied, directing VirtualNancy up to the front door Crilley and Sung had just disappeared through. I directed her to push the door, and to my surprise, it swung right open.

“This is such an odd mansion,” Bess muttered, watching the game.

“I know,” I agreed. “I love the magenta paint job, the yellow trim, the big stained glass window with the eagle, and the towers.” Two towers rose up from the mansion’s roof — giving the whole place a purple palace sort of feel.

“It looks weirdly familiar, but I can’t imagine where I would have seen it in real life,” Bess continued.

“Yeah,” I agreed. “I would think if you had seen it somewhere, you would remember!”

Inside the mansion, chatter and laughter told me the rooms were filled with guests. Sung and Crilley had disappeared, but I directed VirtualNancy to walk down the front hall, peering into the rooms — and gasped at what I saw.

“That’s Shannon’s avatar,” I said, pointing out a trendily-dressed blond teen on a sofa. “Blondie86! And — ohmigosh — that looks like the girl from the library!”

The girl who’d supposedly fallen off the ladder was holding a soda and talking to Shannon’s avatar. Neither of them seemed to notice VirtualNancy as she poked her head out and moved on to the next room.

“Strangers,” I murmured, taking in the chatting avatars. “Oh, wait! Ohmigosh! Look, it’s Ibrahim!”

Ibrahim’s avatar, BetterIbrahim4, was in a corner of the room chatting with a middle-aged lady, an older man with glasses, and a young girl of about thirteen. Again, no one noticed me peeking in, and I directed VirtualNancy out of the room before anyone spotted her.

“You know what this feels like, Nance,” George said ominously.

“What?” I asked. “A very weird everyone-who-has-a-gripe-with-Nancy reunion?”

“Not quite,” George replied, turning her focus back to the game, where VirtualNancy was climbing the stairs. “A gathering of all the ‘slaves.’”

I swallowed hard as the full force of George’s words hit me. All the slaves. It was true, Shannon, the girl in the library, and Ibrahim were all people UrNewReality had tried to blackmail — all people beholden to Sung and Crilley in some way. And the programmers had implied there were lots of “slaves” I didn’t know. Could these strangers all be Sung and Crilley’s playthings — people who did their bidding out of a fear of being found out?

“Why do you think Sung and Crilley would gather them all here?” I asked.

Bess shrugged. “What did they tell you you had to do to win, again?” she asked.

“ Stop them,” I replied. “At the time, I thought they meant physically — like a game of tag.” I paused. “But now I wonder…”

“Maybe they want you to stop them from one final act of destruction,” George suggested. “Remember how they were tearing up the mall. Maybe…”

“Ohmigosh,” I said as it hit me. “Do you think they’re going to try to do something to this house, with all these people in it?”

George shrugged, and my heart jumped into my throat. I knew that Virtual Sung and Crilley could only hurt virtual people — not Ibrahim and Shannon, but Ibrahim and Shannon’s avatars. I had no idea whether Ibrahim and Shannon were actually playing BetterLife right now, or even knew that their avatars were attending this party. But ever since I’d created VirtualNancy and gotten turned on to BetterLife, the real world and the virtual world were becoming harder and harder to tell apart. My online problems had become my real-life problems. Who could say that, by hurting my friends’ avatars, Sung and Crilley might not be planning to hurt them somehow in real life?

VirtualNancy charged up the stairs and began searching rooms on the second floor for any sign of the virtual programmers.

“Wait,” said George, pointing to two desks in the corner of a room. “Look over there.”

I made VirtualNancy approach the desks. They both held state-of-the-art computers, some photos, and some scattered papers. Above each computer, a diploma hung on the wall. Squinting to read them, I realized that they were both from Yale — one for “KingCrilley” and one for “SongSungBlue.”

“Robert Sung and Jack Crilley met at Yale,” George explained. “I’ve read that in a million articles. They built a prototype of the game in their dorm’s computer lab.”

“Look at the photos,” Bess suggested, leaning closer to the screen.

I made VirtualNancy zoom in on the photos. Sure enough, one desk held photos of KingCrilley with a pretty blond woman and a young boy. The other held photos of SongSungBlue with an Asian woman and two tiny babies.

“Robert Sung’s wife gave birth to twins in March,” George announced. “I read that in the same article. And in real life, Crilley has a son.”

I nodded. “Which means…”

“This is their mansion,” George replied. “At least, their virtual mansion. This isn’t just some party house — they own it.”

Just then, the cymbals sounded again, and Nancy’s strength was depleted by three hundred points. She also lost all of her money in the blink of an eye. George groaned.

“Hold on,” she advised me as I directed VirtualNancy out of the room. “Let me find the codes.”

“It’s funny that they don’t just kill VirtualNancy,” Bess observed, glancing at me with a shrug. “Right? They must have the power to do that.”

“Yes, but if their behavior with the ‘slaves’ is any indication,” I replied, “they just like playing with people. I think they’re enjoying seeing me squirm, and trying to prove they’re smarter than I am.”

George found the codes to fix VirtualNancy’s damage, and I began typing them in. Suddenly, Bess gasped and slapped her hand over her mouth.

“What is it?” I asked.

“I just remembered,” she said, “where I remember this mansion from.”

George snorted. “A nightmare?” she asked. “A nightmare where all the architecture was really obnoxious and over-the-top?”

Bess shook her head furiously. “It’s not exactly this mansion. But it’s similar. There’s a big house a few miles outside of town on Glenn Road — you know, heading out toward farms and apple orchards.”

I knew that area was pretty spread-out and rural, but it had been years since I’d driven over there.

“It’s not magenta, it’s brown. And it’s not quite this big — kind of a toned-down version of this.” She paused. “But some really significant details are the same — like, it has two towers, Victorian-style. And it has a big stained glass window in front with an eagle.”

I glanced at George — and I could tell we were both thinking the same thing. A stained glass window with an eagle? How common was that?

“Do you think it might be theirs?” I asked. “I mean, could that be where Sung or Crilley live in real life?”

George sighed. “I mean, I hadn’t heard specifically that they live here,” she said, “but it’s definitely possible. I remember reading somewhere that Crilley lived in Chicago before college — so he might have family in the area.”

“And that would explain why they’re so buddy-buddy with Professor Frank,” Bess added. “If they live here, they probably see each other all the time.”

I shuddered. Poor Professor Frank. He hadn’t been very nice to George and me the day before, but he was surely paying the price now — kidnapped by people he thought were his friends. I still wasn’t sure how he, and his Guitarlvr15 avatar, played into the whole scenario with UrNewReality and Ned’s kidnapping. But after the last few minutes, I believed it was a lot more complicated than I’d originally thought.

“Do you think —?” I began, almost too nervous to put my hopes into words. “Do you think that could be where they are? Where they’re holding Ned?”

George nodded grimly. “I think it’s definitely possible,” she replied. “And I think it’s worth an e-mail to the police.”

I heard her typing as I tried to focus my attention back on the game. I had to find Sung and Crilley — VirtualNancy had to save all of her virtual friends in the mansion! Trying to think rationally, I had Nancy continue up to the bedrooms, searching every nook and cranny, even the closets. We found more strangers — more ‘slaves’, probably — but there was no sign of Crilley and Sung.

“That’s it,” I announced to Bess and George. “There are no more stairs. This is the top floor of the mansion, and they’re not here.”

Bess looked puzzled. “They have to be somewhere, Nance,” she insisted. “Remember — Sung and Crilley created this game, and they have powers you don’t. Could they have beamed themselves somewhere again?”

Well, that was a consideration. VirtualNancy scanned the room — and I noticed a small fire escape outside one of the bedroom windows. I made VirtualNancy check it out, and after opening the window and sticking her head out, she heard it — the telltale sign of Sung and Crilley’s immature laughter.

It was coming from the roof.

“Do you have a ‘get to the roof’ code in there?” I asked George, hopefully.

George shook her head. “Sorry,” she replied. “VirtualNancy is going to have to do this the old-fashioned way — climbing.”

I sighed. I knew VirtualNancy was just an avatar, but I really didn’t want to do her any harm and lose any chance of saving all of the virtual people chatting obliviously inside the mansion. Still, I moved VirtualNancy onto the fire escape, and had her look up at the roof.

“It won’t be easy,” Bess said, “but you can use the top of the window as a foothold. Then you can grab onto the gutter and pull yourself up.”

I had VirtualNancy take a quick glance at the ground just as George shouted, “Don’t look down!”

She was right. It was a long way — and I was terrified.

“Come on,” Bess coaxed, “let’s do this. Let’s beat these boys and save these innocent people.”

I nodded, swallowing and mustering all of my courage. Slowly, carefully, I directed VirtualNancy to climb up the outside of the mansion. Bess was right, VirtualNancy was able to use the top of the window as a foothold and grab the gutter. Unfortunately, when she did so, her feet came off the window trim, and she was dangling in space.

I tried frantically to get her to pull herself onto the roof by her arms, but she was too weak. “George!” I cried. “Quick! The strength cheat code!”

George read it off to me, and I quickly typed it into the keyboard, increasing Nancy’s strength by seven hundred points. After that, she easily used her arms to pull herself onto the roof — even swinging around with the grace of an Olympic gymnast.

Sure enough, the programmers’ avatars were on the roof, watching VirtualNancy struggle with virtual smirks.

SongSungBlue and KingCrilley fell silent as VirtualNancy approached. KingCrilley smiled and, as VirtualNancy watched, pulled out a matchbook and carefully lit a match.

My heart jumped into my stomach.

KINGCRILLEY: WELL, I GUESS YOU CAUGHT UP WITH US, NANCY. CONGRATULATIONS — YOU’RE A MORE FORMIDABLE OPPONENT THAN WE THOUGHT.

SONGSUNGBLUE: AND YOU’RE JUST IN TIME…

KINGCRILLEY: TO WATCH US BURN THIS MANSION AND ALL OF OUR ‘SLAVES’ TO THE GROUND.

I gasped, pushing VirtualNancy forward.

VIRTUALNANCY: BUT WHY? WHY WOULD YOU WANT TO HURT THE PEOPLE WHO ALREADY DO WHATEVER YOU TELL THEM?

SongSungBlue smirked.

SONGSUNGBLUE: BECAUSE IT’S TIRESOME, NANCY. THESE PEOPLE DON’T CARE FOR US. THEY ONLY CARE THAT WE DON’T REVEAL THEIR SECRETS.

KINGCRILLEY: AND FRANKLY, THEY JUST DON’T SEEM WORTH THE EFFORT ANYMORE.

SONGSUNGBLUE: SO WE’RE GOING TO KILL THEM OFF IN THE GAME — AND IN REAL LIFE, WE’LL JUST KILL THEIR DIGNITY.

KINGCRILLEY: BY REVEALING THEIR SECRETS AT LAST.

I was stunned. Who knew how long Sung and Crilley had been leading these people on, letting them do whatever they felt like in exchange for supposedly keeping their secrets hidden? And now they were going to reveal them all because they were bored?

VIRTUALNANCY: YOU CAN’T DO THAT! STOP!

She ran across the roof toward them. SongSungBlue dropped his virtual match, and I directed VirtualNancy to step on it, hard, extinguishing the flame.

KINGCRILLEY: NICE TRY.

He lit another virtual match.

KINGCRILLEY: BUT WE DIDN’T BECOME VIRTUAL MILLIONAIRES BY PLAYING BY THE RULES. BESIDES, THE TIME IS RIGHT FOR CHANGE — WE DON’T WANT RUMORS OF BLACKMAIL FOLLOWING US ONCE THE SUBSCRIPTION PLAN IS RELEASED. SONGSUNGBLUE: BETTER TO JUST BE DONE WITH IT ALL RIGHT NOW.

KINGCRILLEY: AND BURN THIS PLACE TO THE GROUND.

I shivered. I knew that Crilley and Sung had Ned and Professor Frank in real life. And they were probably in a real-life mansion very similar to this one. Could they — was it even possible — were they considering burning their real-life mansion too? And whoever remained inside?

VIRTUALNANCY: STOP! YOU CAN’T!

KINGCRILLEY: HA! WE CAN’T… WHAT? ACCESS YOUR PERSONAL FILES? WE ALREADY DID. TAKE YOUR

BOYFRIEND? WE DID THAT, TOO.

SONGSUNGBLUE: YOU SHOULD STOP UNDERESTIMATING US.

VIRTUALNANCY: PLEASE… YOU CAN’T…

The second match dropped. This time, VirtualNancy dove on it, smothering it beneath her virtual foot. When she looked up, though, something had changed. Crilley and Sung were walking in circles, not focused on anything, making odd hand gestures — the actions, I realized, of unattended avatars.

VIRTUALNANCY: JACK? ROBERT?

A window popped up with a bleep.

KINGCRILLEY AND SONGSUNGBLUE ARE IDLE RIGHT NOW. YOU MAY INTERACT WITH THEM WHEN THEIR OWNERS RETURN TO THE GAME.

I glanced at George. “So — that means —”

“They left the computer,” George replied. “For whatever reason.”

I felt like this should be calming my nerves, but instead it just made me more nervous. Had they stepped away from the computer to light a real-life match? To hurt Ned or Professor Frank? To —

BEEP! BEEP! BEEP!

Another window had popped up.

SOMEONE IS TAPPING YOU ON THE SHOULDER.

I gasped and directed VirtualNancy to turn around. Had one of the guests downstairs followed me?

VirtualNancy’s focus changed, and I cried out in relief as Ned’s handsome, yet definitely not as handsome as real life, avatar filled my screen.

NATTYNED 145: NANCY, ARE YOU ALL RIGHT? THE POLICE ARE HERE! THEY SAID SOMETHING ABOUT RECEIVING AN E-MAIL….

Relief filled my whole body. I closed my eyes and put my head in my hands, sighing deeply. Just then, a knock sounded at the door.

“Anyone in there? This is the River Heights police. We got an e-mail….”

I glanced at George with a grin. “I guess they do check their e-mail, after all.”

“I guess they do,” George agreed with a smile and a nod. “I guess they really have joined the twenty-first century.”

“Well, I guess we’re officially caught up,” Ned told me with a smile as he grabbed the last bite of our tiramisu. It was a few nights later, and Ned and I were finally enjoying a real, relaxed date — without any unexpected interruptions or emergencies. It felt pretty nice.

“I guess so,” I agreed. “How are students at the university responding to BetterLife going under?” Unfortunately for people like Shannon and Rebecca, the BetterLife subscription service was never unveiled — because its founders were arrested for kidnapping, harassment, and fraud just hours before it was scheduled to become available. After hearing of all the security lapses in BetterLife, the authorities had shut down the company and were debating whether to press charges against the hundred or so employees besides the founders. The security lapses were so huge, they reasoned — clearly Sung and Crilley weren’t the only ones who had known about them.

Ned shrugged. “Oh, you know. Everyone was crushed, but then they just turned their attention to their Facebook profiles and their Twitter accounts. Technology moves so fast these days — it’s only a matter of time before something new comes along to take BetterLife’s place.”

I nodded. “And you heard that PeopleSoft might be buying the BetterLife program?” I asked. “George says they want to make security upgrades and release it on their own. The money would go to Sung and Crilley’s families — who apparently knew nothing about their shady dealings.”

Ned nodded. “That would be nice,” he said. “I have missed NattyNed145 a little bit.”

I grinned. I didn’t want to admit it, but sometimes I missed VirtualNancy, too.

“How’s Professor Frank?” I asked. After questioning Sung and Crilley, the RHPD had found Professor Frank completely innocent. It turned out he was a close friend of theirs, and he had invested $25,000 in the subscription plan, which he’d thought was genius. But he had no idea that his friends were using their brilliant software to collect personal information on users, or settle personal grudges. And Guitarlvr15 — the avatar that had convinced the four of us that he was behind my cyberharassment — had been created on Frank’s computer by one of Sung and Crilley’s “slaves” at the university, at their direction. This “slave” had sent the messages to VirtualNancy to confuse me — Professor Frank had never been aware that his computer was involved in the transaction at all.

“He’s okay,” said Ned with a shrug. “A little shaken up by what happened. I could tell he never thought Sung and Crilley were capable of kidnapping.”

Sung and Crilley had kept Ned and the professor together in Crilley’s home on Glenn Road. I could still only imagine how scary it must have been for Ned and Professor Frank. I felt grateful every day that Bess had remembered the house, and our e-mail had worked — otherwise, who knew what might have happened to my boyfriend?

“And your dad’s trial?” Ned asked, folding the cash in with the check we’d split and pushing it to the end of the table, where the waitress would see it. “It’s all going according to plan?”

“Yup, it starts Tuesday, and he’s nervous, of course,” I replied. “But only because it’s a big case. The leaked files didn’t end up hurting him at all.”

“Good.” Ned smiled, and stood from his chair. “Shall we head off to the festivities? I’m sure the al-Fulanis will want a chance to say good-bye.”

I nodded cheerfully, and joined Ned on the short, chilly walk back to my Prius. Squeezing his hand, I unlocked the doors and got in, driving us back toward the center of town and Barbara’s Beans, the cybercafe where this whole case had begun. The al-Fulanis were leaving tomorrow for Professor Al-Fulani’s next assignment — they were all going to live in Hawaii for the next semester. Professor Al-Fulani would be a visiting professor of Peace Studies at the state university on Oahu.

At Barbara’s Beans, cheerful music played over the din of what seemed like a hundred voices. “What a turnout!” I cried, surveying the amazing crowd. “It looks like half the town is here.”

Ned nodded. “Well, the professor was super-popular at the university,” he explained. “And after that whole incident at his lecture, I think a lot of students came out in support.”

A few weeks ago, Professor Al-Fulani had been giving a lecture on peace that had been disrupted when an onlooker had claimed to see a laser pointing at his face — like a rifle scope. Ultimately, it all turned out to be a hoax perpetuated by Shannon’s bigoted aunt, but it had still shaken the town.

Inside, we were consumed by the music and voices. I split off from Ned to go find Ibrahim. We’d been distant for the past few days, ever since the awkward scene in the pharmacy — but I truly had enjoyed getting to know him, and I wanted him to know that. I found him, finally, sitting with his sister at a small table, eating some good-bye cake.

“Hey there,” I greeted the kids with a smile. “I just wanted to come over and say good-bye.”

“Nancy!” Arij cried excitedly, jumping up to consume me in a big hug. “I’ll miss you so much! Thank you for all the help you’ve given me!”

“No problem, Arij,” I chuckled, hugging her back. “Enjoy Hawaii, okay? Tell the endangered sea turtles I say hello.”

“I will.” Arij leaned back and smiled at me. After a few seconds, something caught her eye and she was suddenly in motion again. “Oh! That’s Emily from school! I’d better say good-bye to her….”

As I watched with a smile, Arij disappeared into the crowd.

I turned back to Ibrahim, who looked quiet and awkward, poking his fork into his cake. Like at the pharmacy, toward the end of our conversation, he didn’t seem to want to meet my eye.

“Ibrahim,” I said softly. “I know things have been kind of strange between us lately. But I wanted to let you know, before you leave, how much I’ve truly enjoyed getting to know you and how much I’m going to miss you.”

Ibrahim swallowed loudly, then looked up at me. He looked so confused — his dark eyes as wide and innocent as a puppy’s. I wished I could take away the awkwardness.

“I loved getting to know you, too, Nancy,” he replied, and I could hear the sincerity in his voice. “I wish things had been different at times. But I will truly miss you and think of you often.”

I smiled, leaning in to give Ibrahim a quick hug. “Thank you,” I said. “I really do appreciate that.”

Ibrahim smiled shyly. “You really are a remarkable person, Nancy.” He paused. “And I will always remember our time playing together on BetterLife!”

I laughed. “Me too!” I agreed. “Though some of that program, I wish I could forget.”

We chatted and talked a little more, going over what had happened with Sung, Crilley, and BetterLife, as well as Ibrahim’s plans and hopes for Hawaii. After a few minutes, Ibrahim was called away by a friend from school he had to say good-bye to. I gave him another hug, then wandered over to the computer area, where I spotted Bess and George.

“Hey!” Bess greeted me, smiling. “How was your date with Ned?”

“Nice,” I replied with a relieved sigh. “It was really nice to just get to talk for a while, without having to worry about some silly case. How are you two?”

“Not bad,” George replied. “This party is pretty hoppin’. Oh! I just remembered.” She turned, suddenly, and brought up the Internet browser on one of the computers behind her.

“You know BetterLife is no more,” I reminded her. “If you try to type in the URL, you just get a message that the site doesn’t exist anymore.”

George scowled. “I know that. Of course I know that. What I wanted to show you, Bess and Nance — is a site better than BetterLife.”

Bess glanced at me warily. “Better than BetterLife?” she asked. “What’s it called — BetterBetterLife?”

George shook her head, smiling in spite of herself. “ Better than that,” she said. “It’s called PerfectLife.”

Already, she had brought up the Login page of this PerfectLife program. It looked remarkably similar to BetterLife — so much so, in fact, I wondered if PeopleSoft would ever get around to relaunching that service. Things moved so fast on the Internet, as Ned has said earlier — by the time they were ready, perhaps six different virtual reality worlds would have already popped up to fill the void.

“It’s a lot like BetterLife,” George explained, “but — well, better. For example, you can watch everybody’s activity, release arguments to the public and let them vote on them, create fantasy worlds…”

“Uh oh.” I didn’t realize that I was backing away from the computer until I ran into a table behind me.

“Don’t you want to sign up?” George asked, turning to me imploringly. “We could resurrect VirtualNancy.”

I cleared my throat. It was true, I missed VirtualNancy from time to time. Browsing in a (real-life) bookstore always made me think of her. And I’d recently added her early-on wardrobe back into my rotation: a blue sweater and khakis. Whenever I wore them, I felt a little, well, virtual — capable of more than your average Nancy Drew.

But the thought of joining another virtual reality world made my stomach flip. “No thanks,” I told George. “I appreciate all the help you gave me… but I think I’m done with so-called Better Lives.”

Bess smiled. “Well said,” she added.

George shrugged. “Suit yourself,” she replied, positioning the mouse over the Close button to close the Internet browser.

“Wait!” I cried, jumping forward and grabbing her hand. “Since we’re here and all…and since you have the Internet up…I might as well check my e-mail.”

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Дата добавления: 2017-01-14